


After Thought

by Soulbutnotasoldier



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boxing, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 21:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5717131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soulbutnotasoldier/pseuds/Soulbutnotasoldier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel were going to fight a fight, and after, never see each other again. Dean was sure he was going to win, but when he loses, he just can't take it and goes searching for Cas. When he finds him beat up and left for dead in a back alley he can't help but want to help the guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Thought

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngelOfTheMoor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelOfTheMoor/gifts).



A soft splash falls upon the pavement. It is the most softest of sounds that others would never have picked up on. However, after the door has shut behind Dean, it is the first thing he hears. His anger is running high, blood boiling as he tries to find the source. His body is wrung tight with frustration as he looks around the alley. His hands clench and unclench with barely contained fury. His eyes roam vigorously to and fro, searching out the noise as he walks through the dark. 

By a toppled trash can, lying in waste, is the source of the splash. For a split second Dean is ready with a fist raised, about to hit the man that lies in the dump until he realizes the man is cowering from him. His body, that only moments ago had been near clear, is covered in blood. Where the blood does not touch his cream colored skin, he is painted with blues and blacks. His face is a mask of cuts. The raised fist Dean has falls to his side just as quickly as it had risen. His body goes lax as the anger he had held on so strongly to, vanishes.

Dean crouches just as the man before him raises his hands in defense. The man's hands are in  fists, ready to throw a punch if necessary. Even so, Dean can see the fear in his periwinkle blue eyes. Slowly he moves closer, his own hands draw down in surrender. His eyes show no anger or violence, only a question of permission to help. The man stays as he is, unsure to take the actions shown as truth.

Regret soon fills Dean’s being as he looks upon this man who only an hour ago had been considered his opponent. He had been determined to fight this man once more, show him who should have won, show him what he had held back in the ring. However, looking upon the same man now, he knows those thoughts were wrong. He was a heartless fool, filled with greed and an ego wishing to build. All he had done was an act of a coward not wishing to face the reality of his loss. It was clear the fight had hidden secrets that had somehow landed his opponent in a back alley bleeding and broken. 

Dean stays where he is, finding better comfort in sitting on the filth filled ground. The man, Castiel, stays in his same stance, weary of Dean. With the tip of his index fingers, Dean begins to beat his knees, forming a rhythm. It is a simple rhythm that is soon followed by a soft hum. His head begins to nod, following the rhythm of the song. He smiles to himself, remembering when the song was hummed to him when he had fallen to his lowest of points. 

Castiel lowers his arms as he hears the humming and sees the smile forming on Dean’s face. He relaxes his body, as he allows himself to enjoy the humming. If possible, he would smile too, but the pain that throbs through his body is ever present. Instead, he clears his throat, a question willing its way out of his mouth. 

“What is it you are humming?”

All noises stop as Dean’s head shoots up, shocked by the gravely voice that escapes the chapped lips of Castiel. The man has a look of clear curiosity and if the situation were different, Dean would have found it endearing. Castiel has an innocence about him that would not be found in a man like him, but it leaves Dean smiling once more, the shock gone. He moves the slightest bit closer. 

“I really hope I heard wrong and you didn't just ask me what I was humming. It’s literally going to kill me if you haven't heard of The Beatles.”

A chuckle escapes Castiel’s lips as he hears the dramatics that leave Dean’s mouth. It is a pained chuckle, but a chuckle nonetheless. 

“I do apologize, but I assure you I have never heard of these Beatles you speak of. Are they new?”

“Oh come on, Cas, you have got to be kidding me,” Dean states with exasperation, which only leaves Castiel to chuckle even more. The nickname is ignored by both as if it was something natural rather than something to be analyzed. 

“I assume, from your reaction, that they are not new, so old?”

Dean can’t help the groan that escapes his throat. “Please Cas, I’m dying here. They are classic, like worldwide classics. Please tell me you’ve at least heard of someone like Elvis?”

A crinkle appears around Castiel’s eyes as he smiles more in amusement at Dean’s clear shock of his lack of artist knowledge. 

“I’m sorry, but I do not. Though, to give you some reprieve from your clear anxiety of my lack of pop culture knowledge, I do know of AC/DC and Metallica. Perhaps that helps?”

“Oh thank God, you still have hope. You poor soul, but don't you worry. Once we get you out of here, I’ll show you all the good stuff.”

Castiel smiles at the thought of Dean showing him “the classics.” It’s a nice thought. However, as he looks down at himself and the mess he has become, he is reminded of where he is now. The smile that had graced his face vanishes. Instead, his face is replaced by a mask of distraught and worry. 

With urgency, he tries to right himself and get up from the garbage he is on top of. Pain radiates through him, allowing him to collapse upon the pile. Dean is quick to go to Castiel’s aid. A hand reaches to grab the other man, steadying him. He does not let go as Castiel regains his breath. 

“Buddy, sorry but you aren't getting very far with how you’re looking.”

It is meant as a joke for Castiel’s sake, but even Dean knows it falls flat. Castiel only grimaces. “It doesn't matter, I have to leave.”  He tries to stand once more, but Dean doesn’t allow it. 

“I said, you aren't getting far. Look, you are in bad shape, and I mean  _ bad. _ So please, wait a sec and let me help.”

The anger that soon rises in Castiel cannot be helped. He yanks his hand away from Dean’s grasp and throws daggers in his direction. “And what makes you think I want  _ your  _ help? I do fine on my own, so just leave me be.”

“Excuse me, but unless if you’ve looked into a mirror recently, you look like someone ran you over twice,” Dean responded with just as much anger, “so what if we were fighting in the rink, doesn’t mean I can’t help you.”

“Yes, but it was  _ your _ men who did this to me, correct?” 

Castiel shakes his head in disbelief, not believing he had, only moments ago, been smiling with Dean. He was clearly not thinking and only wished to leave. Too much time had passed and he needed to get home to Claire to be sure she was safe. He gives no mind to the other man as he tries, for the third time, to get up. Dean does not stop him but does stand with him.

“I don’t know what’s your problem, Cas, but I really don’t want you going God knows where without at least a little backup. It’s pretty damn clear you need it.”

“Did you not hear me, Dean? Your people did this to me and now they’re off to hurt someone I care deeply about it. So if you would just leave me, you got what you wanted already.”

Dean could only stare in confusion. Yes he had heard Cas but he was hoping it had been a mistake. Who could he had sent to do such harm to Cas? Sure he wasn’t too happy about losing, but even he wouldn’t be so dirty as to beat him and leave him for dead. Cas was mistaken about Dean, and though Dean shouldn’t have cared, he did. 

He tries once more to talk to Cas, “I’m not sure who’s lying to you or how hard you were hit, but this wasn’t me, buddy. I don’t play dirty.”

“Oh, really? So Crowley just did this to humor himself, is that right,” Castiel states with disdain.

“Crowley? You mean the douchebag who's been trying to get me to sign a contract with him? Please, even I wouldn’t go near him, but he did this to you?”

Castiel refuses to give Dean the benefit of the doubt. He was certain this was Dean's doing. Why else would Crowley have approached him in the beginning? Dean did not have the fame that Castiel had to his name, but if Dean were to have beaten him, Dean would have made it far.

It is this thought that goes through Castiel’s mind as Dean speaks once more.

“I would never do this. I prefer to show my strength in the ring and rather win a clean fight then cheat my way through. Cas, you gotta believe me.”

Though he wished he could ignore Dean and believe what he wished of this man, he couldn't help but consider what he said as the truth. If he was honest with himself, Crowley never did say Dean sent him, only that he wished for Castiel to lose the match so Dean would win. The man had known of the situation with Claire and would not threaten his custody over his niece as long as Castiel did as he was told. However, it just wasn’t in Castiel to do that, and his niece had so much faith he would be victorious, so as the final round came, he had put his all in and won the match, leaving Crowley angered.  

Dean can only look to the man in the hopes that he sees the honesty conveyed in his eyes. Much was hidden of this fight that Dean is now seeing and for once he wishes he had never decided to play this match. Sure, beating Castiel would have helped him in his own career as a boxer, but it was not worth the pain and struggling Castiel was now facing. Dean may have known little about the man, but he could see he was a good man and if the situation were different, he believes they would have been good friends, if not more. 

With some clarity now in his mind, Castiel looks up to Dean and nods slowly. “I- I believe you.”

The fear of rejection that Dean had not known he had washes away and is replaced with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Cas, really man. I just- I wouldn't wish this on anyone.”

“I am thankful of that, Dean. I see you as someone who is good and pure, though possibly a bit too stubborn for your own good,” Castiel cannot help the smile that falls upon his face as he thinks of Dean as a stubborn man. It makes him happy for some inexplicable reason. 

“Aw, do you like me Cas?”

Castiel blushes at the thought. His eyes roam up and down Dean without meaning too as he considers that thought. Before, when he was looking at Dean, it was to weigh his opponent against his own physique, and as they had talked in the alley he was too focused on his own pain to pay any attention to Dean. However, with the glimpse he takes now, he does enjoy what he sees. 

“Perhaps, but that is not of import. If you would, I must get home. You offered your help- do you have a car?”

Dean tries his best not to go bug eyed as he hears Castiel say “perhaps.” The heat he felt on his face makes it evident that he must look as red as a tomato. He feels flushed and wishes he could question Castiel on his response, but he remembers the situation at hand and his needed help.

“Car? Yea, I have my Baby just around the corner,” Dean responds quickly. His hand slips into his sweatpants’ pocket as he retrieves his keys. “Let’s go.”

***

It’s a quick ride that is mostly silent with only Castiel directing Dean towards his home. Walking to the car had been a bit of struggle when it was realized that Castiel’s ankle was in a position that left it either twisted or broken. Dean had carried most of Castiel’s weight as he took him to the car. His hand had held onto Castiel gently when he heard Castiel wheeze as he touched his ribs. 

The damage to Castiel’s body was yet to be determined, but from what could be seen, and the labored breaths Castiel took as he moved and jostled, it was clear he was not okay. Dean worries that he may have internal bleeding and wishes he could take the man to the hospital, but Castiel is adamant to go home. He has yet to tell Dean who he has to check on. It had to be a loved one, perhaps a boyfriend or girlfriend. Without meaning too, Dean feels a bitterness stir in him at the thought of someone possessing this man’s heart. He ignored the feeling the best he can, he has no right to think such things. 

As the car comes to stop at the curb, Castiel is already reaching for the door and pushing it open. He falls out, his hands sustaining his body as he lands on the grass. Dean curses under his breath as he puts the car in Neutral and hurries to unbuckle himself. Castiel finds no need to wait for him. The pent up worry and fear that had been hiding in the back of his mind appears like a force and wretches him up from the grass. Though the pain is still coursing through his body, Castiel seems to forget it all, instead allowing adrenaline to pump through him. He drags one leg and tries to walk on the other as he makes his way to the front door of his condo. Dean is close behind, wanting to yell at Castiel for not being careful, but instead puts his arm around Castiel’s waist and help him walk the rest of the way to the door. 

Castiel struggles with his pants as he tries to search for his keys, desperately wishing to be quicker with his actions. He reaches them with shaking hands, dropping them to the ground several times. Tears that Castiel hadn’t realized he had been holding back, fall down his cheeks. Under his breath he begins to repeat like a mantra “Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.”. It takes Dean grabbing a hold of Castiel’s shaking hand to calm the man down. 

A look of confusion takes a hold of his face as he looks at Dean’s hand, not quite understanding why it is there to begin with. 

“Cas,” Dean speaks softly, “let me open the door.”

A nod is all Castiel can manage as he moves a bit out of the way to allow Dean access to the fallen keys. With steady hands, Dean picks the keys up and inserts one into the knob. The door opens slowly as if it were just as anxious as the two man standing on the threshold. 

 

What greets the two men as the door thuds against the wall is a darkness. There is nothing but silence as the men take a step in. Castiel’s heart beats against his rib cage, and fear grips his soul. Dean fills a chill run through his body as he steps into the house. It's far too quiet and from how Castiel looks, it's clear something is wrong. 

A plea leaves Castiel’s lips as they make it farther into the home, “Claire! Claire, are you here?”

Dean looks around, in the hopes that who Castiel calls for steps forward from the shadows. The tension in the air is a thick blanket that falls upon the men. Seconds pass and the answer Castiel’s call receives is silence. A slow tremble begins in Castiel as he continues into the home and rushes Dean beside him. With every step, Castiel begins to shake more, and his breathing begins to labor. Dean worries as he helps the man, wishing to slow him down. 

“Cas, you need to slow down a bit, you need to calm down,”

“Calm down? Dean, I need to find her! Claire, Claire, Claire!”

Castiel cannot hold back the fear that has so tightly held him. He begins to yell for Claire, wishing for her to appear, to assure him she is okay and Crowley had not gotten to her. She already lost her parents and only deserved happiness. Castiel was the one she had sought for, the one she believed would bring her that happiness, yet look at what he had done. For what, an absurd victory? He was pathetic and if anything happened to Claire, it would be his fault alone. 

Dean looked to Castiel and could see the man going into shock. He had stopped walking and was looking into a distance, as if focused on something far away. He was breathing hard, and his body shook. The rapid thumping of his heart could be heard from two feet away. Dean was sure the man would not be well in the next few minutes if he stayed like this. He was already injured and now this fear was putting him into shock. Dean feels dread as he realizes that if he does nothing this man will die. 

“Castiel,” Dean says with urgency, his voice rising in the slightest, “Buddy please listen to me,”

Nothing changes, as if Dean was speaking to a wall. He tries something different, instead slapping Castiel lightly on the cheek as if to wake him up from a slumber. This strikes an action in Castiel. He shakes his head, a bit stunned, and looks to Dean a bit angered. 

“What was that for, Dean?”

Dean cannot help the sigh of relief that leaves his lips as he sees Castiel slowly come to. He is still shaking and his breathing is slowly normalizing, but it's a good sign. 

“I’m sorry man, you just scared me right now. Just, you need to sit and let me look around the place, okay?”

Castiel can see the clear worry on Dean’s face and though he wishes to continue his search, he knows, he must listen to Dean. The man was clearly worried for him and seemed to care for him. Castiel would not take the care being shown to him care for granted. 

“Very well, but please find her.” Castiel reaches for Dean’s hand as he makes his request. He squeezes the man’s hand softly, wishing for him to understand the trust and faith he is putting into him. Dean nods, laying his other hand on top of the two and squeezes back. 

“Will do.”

He soon rushes away to look through the rooms. Dean had not realized how big the condo was until he began his search. There were several rooms, different hallways that could be taken to the rooms. The dark didn't help much in moving as quickly as Dean wished to. He began his search in the kitchen, illuminating the room for a brief moment, but no one was there. As he moved to the next room, he continued to light up the condo. In each room, Dean takes a quick scan of the surroundings and call out the name Castiel has said earlier, Claire. 

Each room ends with the same findings as the kitchen, empty. It is as Dean reaches the last room that he feels his anxiety at a high. If whoever Castiel is looking for not here, then that could only mean one thing. Dean wishes not to think of that possibility. With only the smallest of hopes, he barges in. 

What he finds is a room illuminated by the blue glow of a tv screen. The floor is littered with clothes and the soft hum of music can be heard. Dean steps slowly in and flicks the light switch. In the center of the room is the bed. From a certain standing it seems all that lies on the bed is a collection of clothing and blankets. Dean, for a second, believes this, until he hears the soft sigh of another person. He rushes to the bed then, tossing the blankets off. His actions are done with haste. The body hidden underneath the layers wakes up and Dean is relieved to be met with a young girl, he is certain, is Claire. 

For a split second, Claire is disoriented and not entirely sure where she is. As she comes to her senses, she realizes that Dean is there and is about ready to jump him. Dean sees the fear in her blue eyes and puts his hands in surrender.

“Before you hit me, I’m a friend of Cas’, promise.”

Claire stares at Dean with uncertainty, still wishing to attack. To better his statement, Dean yells after Castiel. “Cas! I found Claire, she’s okay but it’d help if you told her I’m not here to hurt her!”

To Dean’s relief, Castiel is quick to respond. “Thank god! Claire don't worry about Dean, he does not mean you harm, but please come downstairs!”

“Looks like you’re in the clear, green eyes,” Claire responds with a smirk. With no fear of the stranger in her room, she gets up and heads downstairs. Dean is left alone for a few seconds in which he sighs in relief and smiles a genuine smile. Things were okay and Claire was definitely not Castiel's girlfriend. 

Moments later, Dean goes downstairs to join Claire and Castiel. He had not rushed down, instead wishing to provide some privacy for the two and their reunion. He could only imagine what Castiel was explaining to Claire. Though from what could be heard, it must have been going well because laughter had drifted to the top. 

What Dean finds is the room lit and two bodies hugging each other on a sofa couch. Dean leans against the wall as he lands on the last step of the staircase and looks at the two. It's an adorable sight he wishes not to ruin. He smiles, glad to see Castiel relaxed and glad to see how Claire cares for him as she hugs him softly. The two begin to separate and it is then that Dean steps forward. 

“Sorry, don’t mean to ruin the family reunion, but Cas, I think we should maybe get you to a hospital. Just to, you know, check up on your injuries.”

Castiel looks up at Dean, startled a bit. He had assumed the man had left, which had saddened him a bit. Seeing him there, and with a look of a bit worry, it made Castiel smile. He couldn't help himself for being ever grateful of the man before him and though the fight was what had brought them together, it made him happy to see the man was good. 

“You’re right Dean, I should. Allow me to leave Claire at a friends house and I will be on my way. I would like to thank you for your help, it was very much appreciated and if you are ever in need of help, I will be glad to oblige.”

Dean took in Castiel’s words, and though he understood it as a goodbye, he refused it. There was more here, and he really could not allow the man to take himself to a hospital. “Let me give you a lift to the hospital, at least, Cas. Believe me, helping was something I would have done nonetheless, so don't worry about it. I just, we don't have to say goodbye just yet.”

Castiel was stunned by Dean’s response but liked that even the bowlegged man didn’t want to part ways just yet. 

“Of course not, Dean. You are correct. Perhaps you should drive me to the hospital, and maybe, wait for me,” Castiel asked with hopefulness as he looks to Dean. Dean can’t help but smile and nod his head. “Of course, Cas.”

“Okay stop with the flirting guys and lets actually get going,” Claire states as if grossed out. The two men just laugh.   
  



End file.
